Eternal Flame

Strolling the Streets of London

Benedict was never close to Penelope Featherington by any means, and especially not in the way that his brother and sister were. But, he would be lying if he claimed that the news of her going missing didn't worry him. The little redheaded girl had been a figure in his home so long, she was practically family. He couldn't remember a time when she wasn't there. For nearly a decade, she had been practically attached at the hip to Eloise, and Colin too, even if the boy was too stupid to realize what was in front of him. After the whole Marina fiasco, Benedict was sure Colin would realize his feelings for the youngest Featherington girl. Perhaps, he thought darkly, the thought of losing Penelope would open his eyes.

It had been three days, and the entire situation had Benedict on edge. He knew of only one place that would take his mind off of it. Or rather, one person. "Monsieur Bridgerton," she gritted. "What a surprise!"

"Genevieve! You...look radiant as always," he slurred, leaning heavily against her door frame.

"Mister Bridgerton," Genevieve warned lowly, dropping the French accent. "You are deep in your cups, and you cannot be here. Please leave."

"But Gen..." he whined. "Do you not miss me?" He drawled, ever the charmer. He brushed his hands up her sides, past her breasts, and up her neck.

The modiste shuttered under his touch. She'd be a fool to deny that Benedict was one of the better men she'd ever lain with, but he was not worth the cost to her business. It was the middle of the day, and he was already risking both of their reputations greatly. Genevieve shoved his hands away, causing him to stumble back a bit before she caught him by the lapels. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear, Mister Bridgerton, that I cannot continue this with you. Go. Home," she ordered.

He groaned, closing his eyes as she held him upright. "But then I would be alone, and I do not want to be alone right now. Especially not at that house where everyone is miserable."

That caught her attention. "Miserable?" The idea of a miserable Bridgerton was like hearing of a drowning mermaid. Impossible.

He nodded, leaning against her doorframe again. "Penelope Featherington went missing last night."

Her brows shot up in surprise. "Miss Penelope?" She swallowed. "Is she alright?"

"We're not sure. No one's found her yet," he shrugged. "My brother and sister and looking for her."

"That foolish girl. I told her to be careful," she muttered, thinking Benedict wouldn't hear her.

"Wha-what do you mean?"

Genevieve's face was stricken, having realizing she said too much. "Nothing, Monsieur Bridgerton," she said, adopting her false accent again. "Go home to your family. Now," she demanded, closing the door in his face.

-------------

"I do apologize for having to leave today," Henry said once they were away from the children.

Penelope, or rather Elle, smiled in understanding. "You had to work, Henry. I do not expect you to be at my beck and call."

"I wish I could be," he confessed.

She blushed and turned away. "Yes, well, the children were a welcome distraction from...everything," she giggled.

Henry chuckled, knowing very well what they could be like. "Oh, I am sure they kept you very busy today."

"They did. I would say the highlight of my day was when Tate stole Madeline's dolly, and when she got it back, she proceeded to beat him with it. I do not believe he will attempt such a thing again," she said with a laugh.